It was a car accident
by ROSSELLA1
Summary: One Christmas night, George Foyet kills his parents.


"It was a car accident."

By ROSSELLA1 

Note: I do not own Criminal Minds or any of its characters. Also, for those who forget Foyet was nine when he killed his parents.

"It's time to get going, sweetheart!" his mother yelled up. With a sigh George slammed his textbook shut. Why did they have to go to Grandma's every single Christmas anyway? It wasn't like anything changed there. Sure Dad would lighten up a bit for the three hours they were there but that just meant he spent the time he normally would have been beating George, drinking wine, which in turn meant that when they finally got home he'd make up for it and George wouldn't be able to get up for a week. Then his mother would act all sweet and try to make up for not being able to defend him by buying him the newest Disney movies and ordering pizza for him. Crying and telling him that one day it would get better. Like she was the one covered in one big bruise. Oh well, at least he'd get lots of presents. Grabbing his walkman he went headed downstairs.

"About time!" His father grunted, getting up from the couch and heading out the door. "Get in the fucking car and let's go already!"

"Let's go sweetie." His mother gave him a tight smile as she licked her hand and tried to smooth his hair back. "I think it's best if you tried to stay out of your father's way tonight, hmm?"

"Pfff, whatever," He pushed past her, went out the door, got in the car and turned his headphones up as loud as they could go. Not that it mattered. He could still hear the shouting. They drove for about an hour and finally pulled up in front of a small cabin.

"Come on." His father said, getting out of the car and slamming the door. "Let's get this over with."

"Oooo! Henry and Martha!" A short wrinkled old woman exclaimed, coming out of the house and engulfing his parents in a huge hug. Sighing, he got out of the car. "And little Georgie!" She pulled him in as well. "My have you grown!" His grandfather, a tall, elderly man that still had wiry muscles came up and clapped him on the shoulder.

"How you been, son?" he said grinning.

"Great Grandpa!" he said, faking a smile. If he wasn't nice to the geezers his parents would flip. Still chattering, the group headed inside and sat down for dinner. Thank goodness his father was an only child so there were no annoying aunts or uncles to talk to and pretend to be glad to see.

Finally, it was the best time of the night. Time to open presents. Being an only grandchild meant that his grandparents bought him tons of Christmas presents; more so than most grandchildren got. Hastily he tore the paper of the first one to reveal the new video game he wanted. Thanking his grandparents he reached for the next and found a wallet with a twenty in it. More presents followed until he got to a particularly long one. Strange, he didn't recall asking for anything that bore that description…

Curious, he unwrapped it to reveal a long metal bat. "Was mine when I was your age." His grandfather said smiling fondly at him. "Figured, you're at the age when you'll start to get into sports."

"Gee, thanks!" George said giving his grandparents both a hug and kiss, and then went back to studying his other presents. The bat was nice but he didn't care much for baseball. The money though…

The grownups opened up the presents they'd bought for each other and then everyone headed back to the dining room for desert. George stuffed his mouth with cake and pie, pretending to concentrate hard on his food while really he was counting the glasses of wine his father had. So far he was up to nine and George knew he could down a lot more before passing out.

Half an hour and many drinks later they got in the car and started driving home. His father was swerving and George hoped that maybe they'd crash before they reached the house. That way, if he survived, he'd be able to spend at least a few days in the hospital where his dad couldn't get him. With his luck, however, he doubted that would happen. Oh well, story of his life.

He sifted through his presents that were resting on the seat and found the bat. He hit his palm with it. Maybe it would be good for something. Maybe if he could defend himself with it just once his old man would lay off for good. Hmmm… that gave him an idea.

"Hey, Dad!" he said, "Stop the car!"

"Why?" His father snapped.

"I've gotta go."

"'er almos 'ome" He slurred. " 'ant 'ou 'old it?"

"No, I've gotta go now!" George said.

"Just pull over, Henry." His mother said.

" 'ont tell meh whato do!"But his father did as she asked and pulled over.

Getting out of the car and making sure to bring the bat,he walked a few paces into the trees. After waiting a minute or two he headed back and knocked on this father's door. "Open the door quick!" he exclaimed. Grumbling his father did so and that was when George hit him. He made sure the first blow was to the head before letting loose and raining down blows wherever they landed. By this time his mother was shrieking, begging him to stop. This reminded him that as much as he wanted to continue, he had her to deal with too. Walking around to her side, he opened her door and dealt her two blows to the head and one to the neck. He felt for a pulse but didn't find one. Good. He didn't want to waste much energy on her. Returning to his father's side he closed the door, turned the car on, and turned the wheel to the side before dropping the bat on the gas. The car vroomed off into a nearby tree.

That done, he walked over and managed to pry the bat from the wreckage. Taking a deep breath he threw himself down the rocky decline on the side of the road. It hurt but it was necessary that he get some injuries. He wouldn't be expected to have as much since it was the front that received the most damage but it might cause suspicion if he didn't have any. Oh well, he was used to taking the pain. To be on the safe side he did it again, hit his leg a few times with the bat, and then got back into the car and relaxed. Now all he had to do was wait for someone to find them. He hoped it didn't take too long. It was cold without the heater on.

It was his first real crime and he was surprised that he felt no guilt. On the contrary he felt a surge of pride. It was perfect. Everyone would think it was a tragic car accident. The wounds on the bodies caused in the crash and the blood on the bat, spatter. And George? Well he was just lucky to be alive. He wondered if he'd live with his grandparents or be put in foster care. After all, they were getting on in years. They might not be considered to be ideal guardians for a child. But he could think of that in the morning. For now, he'd just lay back, close his eyes, and go to sleep.


End file.
